


Preparing for a Trip

by spowell Count Dracula series (SPowell)



Series: Count Dracula [32]
Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Bondage, F/F, F/M, Humiliation, M/M, Mind Control, OC Marcella - Freeform, OC Yvette - Freeform, OOC, Spanking, Vampires, Werewolves, blood-sucking, dark!fic, dub-con, evil!Merlin, non-con
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-23
Updated: 2014-12-23
Packaged: 2018-03-03 01:39:14
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,240
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2833436
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SPowell/pseuds/spowell%20Count%20Dracula%20series
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Arthur revels in being in Dracula's bed again and learns more about vampires. Leander chooses a concubine.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Preparing for a Trip

**Author's Note:**

> Sorry no updates yesterday. Not only is it a busy time, but sometimes certain comments can deter me from writing a little. Flaming in the comment section will be deleted.

That night, in their own bed, the Count sank his fangs into Arthur’s neck, drinking until Arthur felt weightless on the bed, his mind drifting somewhere outside of him.

Along with the feeling of euphoria and sexual stimulation that Arthur always experienced when bitten, Arthur also felt an odd emotional sensation of being rearranged. He would be hard put to explain it if asked, but it was as though his mind and spirit were settling in new places, as though everything he knew previously were washed and hung out to dry, sparkling anew in the sunlight.

After Dracula finished drinking, he looked down at Arthur, lips shining with Arthur’s blood, and stroked Arthur’s hair.

“My beautiful A Mea. I have been so hard on you.”

“Not so much tonight,” Arthur said, smiling in contentment as he stretched. He was weak from loss of blood, his head spinning just a bit. “Being a pet was more difficult.”

“I found I could not do to you the things I would normally do to a slave.” Dracula pressed a kiss to Arthur’s temple.

“Why?”

Dracula looked away, not answering.

Arthur reached up and stroked the Count’s face. Catching a bit of Arthur’s own blood on his thumb, he nudged the Count’s lips open and pushed it onto his tongue. Dracula sucked on Arthur’s thumb, tongue running over and under it, until Arthur thought he would come at the sensation. He was still rock hard from being drained. His cock never seemed to suffer from the loss of blood; on the contrary, it always filled and stayed that way.

“I have taken too much blood from you tonight,” the Count said, letting go Arthur’s thumb and moving off him.

“No,” Arthur protested.

The Count pulled the covers back and gazed over Arthur’s nude body. “You are so beautiful.” He ran his hand over Arthur’s chest down to his groin. “I want to taste you again.”

“Yes, please…” Arthur wanted it, too, so much. He wanted the Count to sink his fangs into Arthur’s cock and suck more blood from him.

“I cannot take more blood from you tonight,” Dracula said. “It would be too dangerous. But I can still taste you.”

He leaned down and took Arthur into his mouth. Arthur arched off the bed, gripping the sheets in his fists as Dracula sucked and stroked him with his tongue. Arthur watched in fascination as spittle ran down to the base of his cock as the Count pulled up, lips stretching, only to sink down again over and over until Arthur felt his oncoming release spooling at the base of his spine.

With one hand, Dracula held Arthur’s prick steady for his ministrations. With the other, he lightly stroked the insides of Arthur’s thighs, making them quiver.

Arthur moaned, pushing farther into Dracula’s mouth, orgasm hurtling toward him at great speed. The Count stroked the piercing on Arthur’s sac, and Arthur cried out, grabbing onto the Count’s hair and tugging at it. He needed release. When he felt the Count’s tongue twirl against the slit on his cock head, trying to wiggle inside, Arthur sucked in a breath of air and came with a jolt, his brain short-circuiting and everything going dark.

Arthur came to with Dracula holding him close under the covers, gently stroking his head and down his back.

“My Dove, my own,” the Count whispered into Arthur’s ear.

***

The following days were full of preparations for the trip. Dracula told Arthur that Leander’s castle was in an unknown part of Romania—buried deep in the Carpathian mountains.

“His castle is the stronghold of the Dracula family.”

“But…I thought you more powerful that Leander,” Arthur said. They sat in the dining room, for once the first to arrive for the day’s beginning meal.

Dracula smiled. “I am. I am head of the Dracula family. Son of Dracul, the leader of our tribe. But Leander is powerful in his own right, which is why I do not like to cross him too much. We must stick together, for if another tribe should ever try to overcome us, we would need each other in order to be our strongest.”

“There are others?” Arthur asked, astonished.

The Count chuckled. “Of course. There are many tribes, but for the most part, they stay away from one another. There have been those that have joined and become more powerful—ours did that at one point in time. We overcame the Stanescus, causing that tribe to die out. Morgana was one of them, in fact.”

Arthur thought about this as he ate, unable to fathom so many of their kind in the world. And Arthur did think of himself as one of them now, as odd and repugnant as that once would have seemed to him.

Presently, Leander and Will joined them in the dining room, Will looking wan and sleepy-eyed.

Dracula stared at Will for a time, twirling his goblet of juice, dark head tilted to the side.

“What seems to be the matter with your pet?” Dracula finally asked his cousin.

Leander looked up from his task of feeding Will.

“He is with child again.”

Will looked as though he would vomit at any moment, and probably resented the fruit being fed him. It was the first time Arthur had seen anything other than pure worship shine from his eyes at his master. Arthur couldn’t help staring—he simply couldn’t fathom a man pregnant.

“Will he be able to make the trip?” Arthur asked.

Leander looked at Arthur with disdain. “Of course. My concern is that he will not be able to pleasure me as he should. It always happens during his breeding—I do not enjoy being thrown up on while being sucked.”

“Get a concubine,” Dracula said. “Choose someone at the house.”

What house Dracula spoke of, Arthur wasn’t certain. Then he remembered the other property Dracula had procured; a smaller domicile nearby with only a few acres of property.

A small smile played about Leander’s lips. “I think…” His eyes moved over Arthur before returning to look at DracuIa, “I think I would like the old man.”

Arthur felt Dracula still beside him. “Why him?”

Leander’s eyes moved to meet Arthur’s. “I have a penchant for the elderly.”

Dracula gave a dry laugh that was part cough. “Since when? Besides, once he was bitten, he lost his infirmities from age. You know that.”

“Still,” Leander stroked the rim of his cup with a finger, “it would please me to see his grey head bobbing over my cock.”

Dracula glanced at Arthur, seemingly disturbed about something, and Arthur highly doubted it was the thought of Leander having an old man suck him. Arthur had seen much worse, after all.

“You do this on purpose, Leander. To cause trouble.”

Leander’s face hardened. “Ever since you brought this one into the fold, you have changed, my Cousin. You do not rule as you once did.”

Dracula put down his goblet and rose from the table. “You over-speak.”

Leander stared balefully at Dracula. “I apologise, but I see no reason for you to deny me Gaius’s company.”

Arthur dropped his fork with a clatter. _Gaius?_

“Retrieve him from the house; I care not if you want an old man to share your bed.” With that, Dracula left the room.

Arthur swallowed and stared at the table cloth for a long time before rising himself and following.

 

 


End file.
